


Complex

by Dreamsinlilac



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff and Angst, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsinlilac/pseuds/Dreamsinlilac
Summary: An afternoon with her mother gives an insight into possibly the most complex Drill girl.





	Complex

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I need to give fair warning for anyone who may need it, this is very Imogen focused, it just felt like the right thing for me to do.
> 
> This idea came from a prompt request from my lovely friend, cakeeatingwingedcat via Tumblr. I hope you enjoy and to you and everyone else, feel free to send me prompts at any point and I'll happily see what I can do with them.
> 
> Also, like my last story, we're skipping ahead around ten years from my current FF story. I'm quite enjoying doing this occassionally as I decide where I'm going to go with this series after "A Year In The Life" One thing is for sure, I'm still not ready to stop with it. Again, ideas welcome.

“Muuuuuummmmmmmm?”

Grateful that her back was turned so she could roll her eyes, not at the person but at the tone, Imogen replied, “In here.”

“Can I go out on my broomstick? Pleeeeease?” Zara stood in the doorway of her parent’s bedroom wearing her best pleading look. 

“I don’t think so. It’s pouring down out there.”

“But Mum, I’m qualified to fly. I passed my proficiency exam didn’t I?”

“So did Mildred. Eventually.”

Zara sighed loudly. “Fair point but still, I’m dying to get outside.”

Imogen turned so she was facing her frustrated fourteen-year-old. “We ran for ten miles this morning. Why the need for escape now?”

“Everyone is busy. Fleur is playing with Fionn and Cillian, who are being super annoying by the way. Ava’s helping Mama in the kitchen and I don’t really have anything to do.”

“You could stay here with me.” Imogen smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Okay.” Zara flopped down on the large bed. “What are you doing anyway?”

“Well, I didn’t have much to do either, so I decided to sort out a few things, old clothes and the like. But I got a little distracted.”

“By what?”

“Memories.” Imogen indicated the medium sized trunk she was kneeling in front of. “I keep some special things in here and I wanted to see them again.”

“Like what?” Zara’s interest was piqued so she moved off the bed to crouch alongside her mother. “Oh, I remember that.” She pointed at a well worn purple jumper. 

“That was the first gift Mama ever bought me.”, Imogen explained. “I wore it for years and when it became too ratty, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”

“What else is there? That dress is nice.” 

“I wore that on our first date.” Imogen ran her fingers along the brown dress Zara was holding. “And that blanket over there, I wrapped all four of you girls in that when you were babies.” 

As her own parents had done, Imogen had kept some special items of baby clothing in the attic in case her own children ever wanted them in the future. However, there were a couple of items, the blanket being one, that both she and Constance acknowledged as being too important to part with. 

“Oh my…. are they dungarees? Mum, you are such a stereotype.”, Zara sniggered loudly as she pointed at the article in question. “Why did you keep them?”

“Well firstly, they happened to be very comfortable. Secondly, I wore them a lot when we decorated our rooms in the castle. They remind me of how it felt to go from living in one room to having our own family space.” She wasn’t going to tell Zara that another reason she kept them was for the memories of how much her wife had enjoyed seeing her in those ’stereotypical’ dungarees. “And by saying that, you’re the one perpetuating stereotypes.”

“Whatever, you should dye them pink and give them to Ava, she can carry on your tradition.”

“Just Ava?”, Imogen asked softly, thinking back to other conversations they’d had with Zara where she had confessed her uncertainty over her blossoming romantic feelings. 

“I still don’t know.”

“That’s perfectly fine. Like we told you, you’re still young and there’s a big world out there. Just remember, we’re here when you want to talk and we’ll always love you.”

“I know, thanks. Was this your cardigan?” Zara changed the subject by picking up a long grey cardigan and sniffing it slightly. “No, wait, it smells like that flower so it must be Mama’s.”

“Lilacs.” Imogen leaned over and breathed in the still lingering scent. “Yes, I bought this for Mama when she was pregnant with Ava. It was really cold that winter so she ended up wearing it pretty much constantly.” She cast her mind back to the many times she had wrapped her arms around her pregnant wife, both full of excitement as that first Drill baby bump began to grow. 

“It’s nice. Actually, you should show Ava all this stuff really. She’d love how soppy you are keeping it all.” 

“I will, and call me soppy all you want. You’ll be my age one day and you’ll find that it’s the simplest items that bring back happy memories. Like this scarf, when I was heavily pregnant with you and with Fleur it was winter again, I couldn’t stand to wear anything as heavy as the cardigan so I wore this with everything for extra warmth.”

“I think I remember that too, from when I was small. I have this memory of you wearing it maybe we were at playgroup or something. I suppose that would have been when Fleur was born.”

“That sounds about right. At one stage Abby wanted to hold an intervention to buy me a new one but I was happy with this. I liked the fact that I had worn it carrying both of you and I knew it was going to go into the memory box once your sister arrived.”

Zara gave the scarf one last stroke before looking at what was left in the trunk. “What is this?”, she gasped, pulling out what in her mind was the ugliest hat she had possibly ever seen.

Without looking, Imogen knew what her daughter was referring to. “It’s a bonnet, a Witch’s bonnet to be precise. It was Mama’s.”

“Mama wore this? As in she wore it outside? In public?”

“She did. I don’t know about other times but the last time she wore it was on a school trip we took a first-year group on. Actually, it was the group Maud, Millie, Jadu and Ruby were in.”

“And you let her wear it? Were you together then?”

“It was the day before we got engaged if you must know. And as for ‘letting her wear it’, I’ll be honest, I thought it was an unusual choice but I know why she did.”

Zara still didn’t understand. “Why?”

“As protection, as a barrier against the non-magical world that was still so new to her. I talked her into letting me take the girls camping and somehow, convinced her to come with us. She agreed but it was so far out of her comfort zone that she needed something to shield her.”

“But she had you.”

Imogen stood up and stretched out her slightly aching joints before sitting on the bed and patting the space next to her, indicating that Zara should join her. “She did have me, but not in the way you are used to seeing us. The students didn’t know we were a couple so we couldn’t even hold hands. And, if I’m honest, and it shames me to admit this, I wasn’t any great help that day. In fact, I caused a big row between us and left her by herself while I went off to sulk.”

“You did?” Zara had seen her parents have little tiffs but never a big row. “What happened?”

Imogen debated for a moment before deciding to share what had happened. “I let myself get caught up in the fact that I wasn’t a witch. I’d borrowed an old book about magic from Davina. In it, there was a section about witches having babies together.”

“You mean the spell you used to have me, Ava and Fleur?” Their parents had explained the spell to her and to Ava once they were old enough to understand sex and procreation. Fleur still didn’t know but Zara was sure that like them, she would think it was the coolest thing ever. 

“Yes. I thought because I wasn’t a Witch we couldn’t use it. Clearly, I was wrong. But in my head, I built it up, I worried I was depriving Mama of something she could have with another woman, one with magical abilities. Anyway, we had a fight, I stalked off and rang Jamie, hoping for sympathy but he promptly told me I was being an idiot.”

“He was right.”

“Thanks Sweetpea. So I went back, apologised and luckily she forgave me. I already knew I wanted to propose to her, I just didn’t know when. But again, Jamie helped me by telling me to stop waiting. So, the next day I asked her and well, you know the rest.”

“So why keep the bonnet?”, Zara asked. “Does Mama know you have it?”

Imogen chuckled, remembering Constance asking a similar question years previously. And to her daughter, she gave the same explanation she had given to her wife when she had asked to keep the item that was on its way to a magical recycling centre. “I kept it because to me it was a symbol of change.”

“Change?”

“Yes. Although we were already so happy in our relationship, after we got engaged Mama changed even more than she had already. That included declaring the bonnet something she no longer needed. She knew that we would be together forever and that she could be the truest version of herself with me and with the people she loved, even those people who weren’t born yet.”

“So you loved her even more then?”

“Not quite” Imogen wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings. “I loved her anyway, over time that love grew and I was so proud of the changes she made for herself, but I would have loved her regardless and never asked her to change for me. Does that make sense?”

Zara thought for a moment. “I think so. Did you change too?”

“Oh yes. I stopped being afraid that my lack of magic was an issue or something I needed to fear or be jealous of. How could something that would give us our children be a problem?”

“We _are_ pretty amazing.” Zara grinned

“You are. And so is your Mama, she is an amazing complex woman and that bonnet that you’re holding will always remind me of what was probably the biggest turning point in our relationship. The point where we decided that we would join together forever and when the time was right, share our love with our family. 

“So soppy.”, Zara teased again. “But I see what you mean.”

“I’m glad.” Imogen gave Zara’s hand a squeeze before glancing at the clock. “I suppose I should offer to give a hand in the kitchen.”

“I don’t think you’ll be allowed. Mama’s cooking you a romantic meal for tonight, that’s what Ava’s helping her with. I don’t know what she’s making but I’m sure you’ll like it. Anyway, you should stay out of the kitchen so you don’t spoil the surprise.

“Ahhhh.” Imogen had almost forgotten it would just be the two of them that evening as Ava, Zara and Fleur would be sleeping at Abby’s house. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is. I am pretty hungry now though and I’m dying for a coffee.”

“Subtle hint Mum.”, Zara deadpanned. “Do you want me to make you one?”

“Please.”

“Can I have one too?” She had developed a real taste for coffee but was only allowed a very limited quantity per week by her parents.”

“I don’t see why not.” The words were no sooner out of Imogen’s mouth when a tray containing two large coffees and a plate of chocolate biscuits appeared on the bedside table. “You could have just gone downstairs and made it.”

“Why?” Zara answered around a mouthful of biscuit. “I am Constance Drill’s daughter, aren’t I? Or Miss Hardbroom as they call her in school, which by the way is still so weird to hear. Besides, I wanted to practice my magic.”

“But magical biscuits are horrible.” Imogen knew she sounded petulant but what was the point of a delicious looking biscuit that tasted like hay? _“At least magical coffee is halfway decent.”_ , she thought to herself. 

“I magicked the coffee, I summoned the biscuits that Granny left in the cupboard last week.”

Imogen immediately brightened up and reached for a biscuit. “In that case.”

They sat in an easy silence for a few minutes before Zara brought up something from their earlier conversation.

“Mum, you said earlier on that Mama was complex, what did you mean?”

“I guess I meant that her personality is made up of lots of different elements and layers. Most people have a level of complexity, I know I do, but with Mama, there’s an extra richness and a depth to her that might be difficult to understand initially, but it’s so worth figuring out.”

“Am I hard to understand?”, Zara blurted suddenly. 

“Oh, Sweetpea.”, Imogen placed both cups on the tray and drew her daughter into a hug. “Where’s this coming from?”

Zara spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I know it usually takes me a while to warm up to new people and maybe they think I’m not very friendly, but I know that I am when I’m comfortable with someone. I like things that other people don’t. Like the girls in my year think magic is okay but it’s something they have to learn. They only get excited about the big things like transformations and transportation. But for me, I want to learn it all, even the so-called boring stuff. 

“I _love_ potions and spell classes and I want to be able to do everything that Mama and Gaby and Grissy and Granny can do. I don’t think I’ll ever be as clever with books and words as Ava, and I know I’m not as creative as Absy. I'm a good singer but Fleur is so much more musical than I am. But I can just feel this magic in me and I want to use it as well as I possibly can as soon as I can.”

“And you will.” Imogen murmured. “You have so much time to learn all the skills they have. And you’re the lucky one that has access to Mama and Granny all the time to help you. And Gaby and Grissy too of course. And as for being clever and creative and musical, you are all of those things. You’re right, you girls all excel in different areas, you also bring out the best in each other which is another reason why Mama and I so are proud of you all.”

Zara blew her fringe away from her forehead, a childhood habit she had never grown out of, and subtly cuddled closer to her Mum. “It’s the same with P.E., most of them hate running. Sorry.” Even though her Mum wasn’t her P.E. teacher it still didn’t seem like a nice thing to say. 

“That’s okay, I know it’s not everyone’s favourite activity.”

“But it’s one of mine.”, Zara declared. “I love that feeling of being outside and running, I’d run a marathon tomorrow if I was allowed but I can’t ‘cos I’m too young. I love it just as much as I love magic and dancing and yoga. Even as much as I love animals.”

“Don’t your friends like animals?” Imogen was confused. “The girls in school seem to adore their cats and the same with Willow groups, they love their familiars. And Sasha is crazy about that dog they have.”

“Yeah.”, Zara agreed. “They love the cute animals. And so do I.”, she added quickly in case any of her beloved pets overheard and thought she didn’t care about them. “But when I talk to some of the girls in school about going on farm visits with Stevie, they look at me like I have two heads.”

“I think I understand what you mean.” Imogen stroked the thick, always shiny hair, her daughter had been gifted with. “And it is okay to love all those different things you listed off, loving them is part of what makes you Zara Drill. And as for people understanding you and seeing beyond any initial front you might put up, your family does, your friends do and we all love you exactly how you are.

“But I don’t have hundreds of friends like Ava and Absy do.” 

She knew what Zara meant. Abby and Ava had always been more outgoing and as a result, gave the appearance of having a wider group of friends. She also knew that if she asked them, her two older girls would both list a handful of people they considered to be true, forever friends. Everyone else was more of a fun companion to hang out with. 

Zara and Fleur had different personalities, they weren’t social butterflies like their sisters. However, the friendships they did have, and there were several in both cases, were extremely close. But right now it seemed Zara couldn't see that.

"Do you want hundreds of friends?"

The question caused Zara to stop in her tracks. "I'm not sure...no, not really. I mean I like my friends, no, I love them and I can be myself with them. And I have my sisters and despite what I might say sometimes, they are my best friends. And we have so many people in our strange little family, actually it's not so little I guess. Anyway, I always have people to spend time with who I can talk to and know I can trust."

“That's a great way of looking at it. The outside friendships you have are strong ones and that’s the most important thing. Your friends think you’re fantastic, so do your family, your sisters, your cousins, including those boys downstairs who may annoy you but you know deep down you love them. Sweetpea, when I was your age I had one real friend, Jamie. And he lived in a different country. Our friendship was formed over letters and occasional phone calls, we didn’t even have the internet then.”

“That’s because it was back in the olden days.”, Zara couldn’t help quipping. 

“To you maybe.” Imogen was glad to see the smile. “Anyway, as I was saying. He’s still my best friend but once I realised that I could push past my own shyness, I made more friends. Some I made through things I liked like languages and sport in Uni, but I made others with people who on the surface I had nothing in common with. Take Davina for example, I would never have put us together as friends, but actually, when I look back at when I came to Cackle’s, she was the first real friend I made.”

“Not Granny?” Zara understood why it hadn’t been her Mama but was curious why Davina over her grandmother. 

“It’s kind of hard to be friends with your boss, especially one you’re trying to make a good impression on.”, Imogen confided. “But later, even before I got together with your mother, yes, Granny and I did become friends.”

“That makes sense.”

Imogen turned Zara slightly so they were facing each other. “Sweetpea, if you’re asking me are you complex, the answer is yes. You always have been, ever since you were a tiny baby. But that is not a bad thing, not in the slightest. I see so much of Mama in you. Not just the magical side, you’ve always had some of the strongest parts of her personality, like her loyalty, her curiosity, her desire for perfection. And she’ll say she sees parts of me, your energy, how you love being outside and how you're a bit too hard on yourself sometimes. I see that too, but that combination makes up you, the individual, and since day one you have always been your own person. 

“Anyone who deserves to know you will respect the things you like, even if they’re not for them. And you’ll open up to them, just like you do with us and they’ll be so lucky that they get to know you and to understand you. Because my Sweetpea, you are completely worth knowing. Okay?”

“Okay.” Zara sniffed slightly before wrapping her Mum in a bear hug, partly to hide her strong emotions but mainly because she wanted to be close to her.

“You are so incredible. And so talented and however you decide to show those talents to the world, we will all be there to support you.”, Imogen murmured softly as she held her daughter. 

Zara may already have beaten her in the height stakes but she would always be their cheeky, yet shy little girl. The child who over the years had caused a fiery Abby to meet her match in the arguments stake more times than they could count. The one who had given an acutely sensitive Ava a reality check when she needed it and who had put her own natural wariness aside when she felt she needed to be an example to a more timid Fleur. 

“Thanks.” Zara was still glassy-eyed when she pulled back but felt much better. “I suppose I’d better get myself organised for tonight.”

“Good idea. What’s the plan? Hang on, let me guess, food and films? Maybe some dancing thrown in for good measure?”

“Yep, and plenty of talking.” Zara rolled her eyes, a trait she had definitely picked up from one parent in particular. “Which is fine, I love sister talks, but if Ava talks over this film the way she did with the last one I’ll magic her mouth shut.” 

“Zara…”

“Joking, I’m joking… really.”

“Hmm, well if you’re tempted, just remember, at least one of your sisters is likely to rat you out for selfish and/or trivial use of magic.” Imogen couldn’t help laughing at the look of resignation on Zara’s face. “Before you go I had an idea. I know you can’t sign up for a marathon right now but you could do a half one. We could do one together, maybe with Jamie and Stephen?”

“Really?” Zara’s eyes grew wide with excitement. 

“Yes, it’s only a bit further than we did today and you’d be well able. Then, if you’re still interested we can begin to work towards doing a full one together once you’re sixteen. How does that sound.”

“It sounds brilliant.” Zara ran back into her mother's arms and hugged her tightly. “And I’ll definitely be interested.”

Imogen had a feeling that would be the case. She also had something else for Zara, this time something she could take immediately.

“Here, I’d like you to have this.” 

Zara looked at the bonnet her mother had handed her. “What? Why?”

“As a reminder of what we talked about today, of thinking about what lies under the surface, feelings, emotions. All of that. Think about how underneath that, frankly, hideous hat was your beautiful Mama with all of her complex emotions, just waiting to share herself completely with me and with you girls. And remember, as grown up as you think you are now, you will continue to change and evolve over the years. More people, more potential friends, even partners, will come into your life and it will be up to you and you alone to decide if you are going to take down your own shield and show them the true you.”

“Thank you.” Zara fully understood what her mother was saying. “I’ll keep it in my own memory box. Will Mama mind that I have it?”

“Not at all. In fact, I know she’ll be very happy. She’ll be especially happy that you didn’t laugh at it like Abby did when she saw it.”

Mother and daughter shared a mutual eye roll at Abby’s bluntness. 

“Typical Absy.” Zara shook her head. “You know she’s still sulking that we’re all taller than her now, even Fleur. Sometimes I can’t believe we actually miss living with her.”

“But we do.” Imogen gave a half smile as she thought of their eldest, who it seemed to Zara would always be ‘Absy’, just as Stephen would always be ‘Stevie’. “Luckily she’s not too far away though. On that note, you go round up your sisters, get your stuff and I’ll drop you over. It's time I took the boys home anyway.” 

“Okay, we won’t take long, we know you have a big romantic night with Mama to get ready for.” 

“I do indeed. Actually, speaking of Mama did you ask her if you could go out on your broomstick earlier?”

“I may have.”

“Why am I not surprised? And just out of curiosity, what was her answer?”

“I believe the expressions, ‘Absolutely not’ and, ‘If you even think of going out in this weather, I’ll ban you from flying outside lessons for six months’, were bandied about. I tried to point out that I had passed my test. A test Mama had designed herself based on magical weather conditions that were worse than the rain today, but somehow she wasn’t receptive to my arguments. Remember my test? I came first out of the whole class. And remember, it was so funny, Davina stood directly under the magic raincloud and got soaked?

“I remember. I also don’t know whether to admire you or be annoyed with you.” 

“Both would be understandable, I am very complex after all.”

“That you are Sweetpea, that you are.”


End file.
